


Dangerous Words

by faultyfriendofyours



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, McLennon, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faultyfriendofyours/pseuds/faultyfriendofyours
Summary: It really wasn't John's fault that the media misconstrued his words for a good story. It wasn't John's fault that he and his bandmates were getting death threats. But he still had to apologize and Paul could get behind that. What he couldn't get behind is the methods used to convince his dear Lennon to apologize.That had made him angrier then he could manage to keep in and Brian Epstein was just down the hall for a good row.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	Dangerous Words

Everything was happening in a whirlwind. John was with his mates and the day seemed to have gone by in seconds. He could remember that they’d finished their concert and hit up a cafe together. He could remember them getting chased by a horde of girls but he felt like he had not actually done those things. But he must have because they were all in some dingy alley together, hiding away from the crazed fans.

Ringo was doubled over, trying to breathe right again, and George was shaking his head as he lit the tip of his ciggie. John had his back to the wall with Paul against his chest, crippled over with laughter.

“Keep on laughing and they’ll find us again,” Geo said, taking a drag from the cigarette.

With that little comment, something sparked in John’s mind. Why were they out in the open like this? There was no security, no Mal, to protect them here. And Paul was just laughing on and on as if he’d heard the funniest thing in the world.

“Yeah, Paul. Shut it, would you?”

Paul, still laughing, pushed off John. He moved closer to George, pointing and laughing right at John the whole time.

“You’re a right joke, Lennon,” Paul spit out, venom in his stifled laughs. “Every word that leaves your mouth puts us in danger and we still keep you ‘round! Guess that makes us a joke too, eh Geo?” He nudged at George’s shoulder but the young lad said nothing.

John made to protest, anger and resentment bubbling inside at how truthful he found the words to be. But the bang of a gun seemed to have put the world on pause. They all jumped back towards the walls of the alley, Paul’s laughs finally cut to silence.

John’s heart was pounding in his ears as he checked over himself before looking to his friends that all stood opposite him. They all seemed fine until he took a second glance at Ringo. Blood pooled from between the lad’s lips, trickling down to the front of his shirt until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed to the concrete below.

“No! No!” John wanted to move, wanted to grab Paul and George and run to find help, but his feet were glued to the spot. Tears streamed down his face as he looked on at his dead friend. “Ritch! Richard!”

“John, what did you do?” Paul’s voice pulled him away from Ringo’s paling body, leaving John hoping for some sort of comfort. But he found none of that in the man’s face. There was only rage and tears. “What did you do to him! He’s dead because of you and your stupid mouth,” He was shouting now, pointing to Ringo. It almost masked the sound of the second shot- almost.

And there went George, a bullet hole clean through his throat. He stuttered and gargled blood until he slipped to the ground beside Ringo. His mates looked so small, so young, as the blood drained from their bodies. John was writhing in agony at the sight, still unable to take a step closer. He fell to his knees, reaching for his friends. “Stop this! Stop, stop! Somebody…” Sobbing his heart out, John turned on Paul. “Paul. Paul, please! Run! Just run away!”

Paul just stood by his dead friends, tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t you get it, love?” His words were choked with tears. “I could never run from you. No matter how dangerous.” Another gunshot and Paul was bleeding from where his heart would be. His blue shirt stained red in seconds. “That’s why I’m dead. It’s all because of you. Look now,” blood was pouring out from his lips as he spoke, turning John’s stomach as he cried even harder. “Look at your hands. It’s all your fault, my darling one. But I’ll always forgive you, won’t I?”

Looking at his hands he saw a gun gripped between his fingers, smoke trailing from the barrel. “No, Paulie. I didn’t- I couldn’t have…” But couldn’t he have? He could have killed each of his friends with his stupid words. Tony and Brian had said as much.

Light, dim and far away, began to tug at Paul as he fought the urge to wake. Grabbing blindly, he found the hem of his blanket and pulled it over his head with a groan. Now that the light was gone, sleep began to wrap around his mind again.

“Paulie…Paul…” His own name echoed in his ears, sounding distant and warp. “Paul…please…”

A small cry broke through to him and his eyes burst open as another came along. He hurriedly moved the cover from his face and turned in the small hotel bed. John was curled into a tight ball in the next bed, lit up by the small lamp at the nightstand. His covers and pillows seemed to have been sent across the room from an awful dream. Of which, he seemed to still be in the midst of.“John?” His voice was groggy as he shuffled around on his bed.

Paul hadn’t seen the lad happy all day. He was all anger, bitterness, or tears. Mostly tears after he left the little ”meeting” with Brian and Tony. It was the most Paul had ever seen his partner cry in front of more people than just him. None of the three had told of what was said in that meeting and none of the other three had asked but it had to have been awful to make John cry as he did. Whatever Brian and Tony had done was pulling even into the man’s dreams. It was too much. They had gone too far.

That spiked a staggering bitterness within Paul, leaving him with a strong need to protect his mate. As John called out once more in his sleep, Paul slipped from bed, taking his cover along with him, and slid up next to John. He wrapped the older man in his arms as the cover settled over their bodies.“S’alright, Johnny. I’m right here.”

John frantically gripped onto Paul’s back, knotting his hands into the thin cotton of his nightshirt. Paul pushed back the hair stuck to John’s face with cold sweat as he coed into his ear. After only a moment, John’s eyes shot open to search Paul’s body before landing on his face. Tears spilled from his eyes as an almost immediate reaction.

“I thought you were dead. I thought- Oh God.” The older man pulled Paul close to his chest so that he could bury his face in the crook of the bassist’s neck.“You’re fine. Was only a dream,” Paul kept his voice in a low murmur, rubbing circles in the center of John’s back and kissing into his hair. “Wanna talk about it, love,” he offered, already knowing the answer.

John mumbled a “no” into his neck that was now wet with tears. Paul wanted so badly to behave himself and stay to comfort John but his skin was prickling with rage. His nose stung with the surge of emotion and Brian was only down the hall.

“Alright,” Paul pulled himself from John, petting his hair back. “I’m going to fetch us both some ciggies from George.” At the first sign of protest, Paul kissed him softly. “Won’t be gone a minute, love. And we could both use a smoke. Maybe some strong drink too, eh?”

It took some convincing, but eventually, Paul had slipped from John’s bed and yanked on yesterday’s trousers. He had no idea what time of night it was but he didn’t give two shits. He’d kick Brian’s fucking door in if he had to. But he didn’t have to. Brian opened his door after three firm knocks.

He was groggy with sleep and looked over Paul with squinting eyes. “You boys alright?” His eyes seemed to widen three times over as he found Paul’s face. The rage was clear and deeply seeded.

Paul pushed his way into the room, knocking Brian back a step as he went. “No, we ain’t alright, Bri.” The younger man whipped around as Brian shut the door. “Do you know what I just woke up to?” Paul’s voice was startlingly level, only his eyes giving a hint of his true intentions.

“How would I, Paul?”

“Well, silly of me to expect you to know, yes. Let me fill you in then. You like to be filled in, eh? Kept in the loop?” Brian didn’t take the bait, only folding his arms over his chest. “I woke up to John crying in the next bed, Brian. I woke up to John thinking I was dead, Brian.” Paul was two inches from his manager’s face in a split second, seething with rage. “Would you mind letting me know what the hell you’ve done to him?”

Back pressed to the door, Brian took a cautious breath. “Paul- I- I didn’t think he’d-”

“Didn’t think whatever you said would affect him so badly?” Paul laughed a cold laugh. “Don’t try to pull that on me. You know as well as I that John takes everything to heart.” He poked at Brian’s chest with a harsh finger. “He’s having nightmares and it’s all on you. You’ve gone too fucking far.”

“I tried- Tried to tell Tony to let up on the poor boy but-”

“Y’know, I don’t even care what you said to him- what Tony said to him.” He grabbed Brian by the shoulders with a firm grip and moved him off the door. Desperately trying to keep his footing, the man grabbed at Paul’s forearms. 

“Paul, please, be sensible,” Brian pleaded with gasping breaths but it wasn’t necessary. Paul had let him go after placing him a few feet from the door.

“Oh, I’m not going to hit ya, Eppy.” Paul narrowed his eyes. “Violence is more of John’s thing.” The lad snatched a pack of cigarettes and an expensive bottle of brandy from a small table. Normally, Brian would have protested but now was not the time. “But if you ever do this or even let someone do this to John again, I might just take a page from our Lennon’s book.”

With that, Brian was left speechless, clutching his silk dressing gown as the usually so tame and charming boy gave a chilling glare and disappeared into the hall. As soon as the door closed, Paul broke into a smile. He looked over his fine items and almost laughed. He had no idea what he was threatening when he said those things but the look on Brian’s face said it didn’t matter. He’d scared the living daylights out of the man and that was all he wanted. All he had to do now was convince John that everything was alright. A much harder task, indeed.

With all the care and tenderness in the world, Paul lulled John back to sleep in his arms. To the man’s credit, it had only taken one ciggie and three fingers of brandy to do it all. Once he had finished his own drink, he wrapped Lennon tightly in his arms and drifted off as well. He knew it would take a month or more to truly convince John everything would be okay but this was a start– a good start. He could also sleep with the satisfactory knowledge that he had left Brian feeling like shit if nothing else.


End file.
